


Do you see what I see?

by demondreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M, Reunion, sorta angsty with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demondreams/pseuds/demondreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the lake incident, Dean and Cas are reunited, a bit of angst, and eventually a happy ending ensue.<br/>Spoilers for the beginning of season 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do you see what I see?

It was just another afternoon in another searing Midwestern summer. Dean was lying back on a creaky mattress in what was just the latest crappy motel room in a string of crappy motel rooms. He was trying to get some shut-eye while Sam was off getting lunch (Dean hoped, for his sake, that Sammy didn’t forget the pie this time). He was exhausted and these Leviathans, or whatever the hell they were, were really giving them a hard time. Just as he began to doze off, he heard something that stole the breath from his lungs and chased away any possibility of sleep. It was the all too familiar flapping of wings.

Dean didn’t jolt upright, he didn’t even open his eyes; he knew better by now. It had happened every day since Cas- no, the Leviathan- had walked into that goddamned lake. Dean would hear the sound of wings, the same sound that once heralded Castiel’s arrival. Sure, he looked the first few times, how could he not? Back then he still had some hope that the angel might return, but now he knew better. He knew enough about his life to know that it could never happen, he could never have this one thing, the one thing he wanted more that he was willing to admit. His life just didn’t work like that. And so he kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep, refusing to look for something that couldn’t possibly be there.

“Dean?”

That did it. Dean’s eyes flew open, only to be greeted by the sight of a pair of shockingly blue ones peering directly back. Well, at least if he was hallucinating, his mind had one hell of an attention to detail.

“Dean?”

There it was again, uttered in the same soft, gravelly tone that he knew so well. Dean tried to speak, but it seemed that all his vocal chords could manage at the moment was a croak, “Cas?”

As the bright blue eyes retreated slightly, he could better see the face they belonged to. A shock of downy black hair sat on the top of his head, his perpetually frowning mouth was still surrounded by a liberal sprinkling of stubble, and his eyebrows were furrowed in the same look of concerned confusion he always wore. Yup, Dean’s mind had one hell of an attention to detail.

Dean sat up, rubbing his eyes as if this might make the phantom go away, “You can’t be here. You’re dead.”

“Apparently not.” The angel (hallucination) said, serious as always, “I am standing right here.”

“No, you’re not. You went and got yourself exploded into angel bits, all that was left was that stupid coat of yours. See?” Dean promptly leaned over the side of the bed to grab the old tan coat he kept in his duffle bag, as if showing it to the not-angel would prove his point. He pulled the coat out of his bag and held it in front of him as though it was incriminating evidence, “See!? You go and get yourself _killed_ and this is all you leave behind!” Dean was yelling now, having to see this not-Castiel again made him angrier than he’d been in a long time, the hallucination feeling like a cruel mockery.

“Dean.” It was said gently this time, and not-Castiel leaned forward to carefully grab the coat from Dean’s grasp.

Dean pulled back fiercely, determined not to let the not-angel get a hold of the coat, worried that if he let it go he would lose everything he had left of Castiel, “No, goddamn it!”

“Dean-“

“I said no!”Dean was still clinging to the coat, bundling it tightly to his chest, and fuck it all, he could feel a light sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. He felt like a child. And so he did the only thing he could; he punched Castiel in the face. After feeling the solid impact of his knuckles against the angel’s face, there was no denying that this was in fact real. So he kept throwing punches. He landed hit after hit on Castiel’s face, his shoulders, and the angel just stood there, stoic as ever, and took it.

It was a good minute or two before Dean was finally physically and emotionally exhausted enough that he stopped. He just sort of crumpled. Castiel tentatively wrapped his arms around him, at first just to keep him from falling to the floor, and then as a sort of comfort. He held Dean while he shook, and if he let loose a few of those unshed tears, Castiel pretended not to notice.

“You stupid son of a bitch.” Dean found himself muttering it into Castiel’s shoulder.

In lieu of a response, the angel simply guided him back to the bed and sat him down on it. He then picked up his coat, which had been left on the floor during Dean’s outburst, and wrapped it around the hunter’s shoulders, he then proceeded to sit down on the bed. The two of them sat in a slightly more comfortable silence for quite some time.

“It’s good to have you back Cas.” Dean muttered after a while. The angel couldn’t help but agree.

 


End file.
